How Do You Do It?
by Insane-Cheezemonkey
Summary: Ummm...here's an IZ fic. Yyyep. High skool fic. Zim ends up tutoring Dib in history, and very interesting stuff happens. Involves punk rock. ZADR. Mmyep.
1. Look, they're in skool! Myahahahack Kill...

NOTE: Hi! Me here. I'm just here to introduce this fic, entitled How Do You Do it? Ish an Invader Zim fic, of course, and it's ZADR. That's SLASH. Mmmyep. I like food. Sorta angsty, sorta funny. Has cameos…blah. As for the history in this story, I did the lesson on Cleopatra last year, so I'm not sure I've got it right. If it is wrong, please just excuse my stupidity. Thanks.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own IZ, Johnny the Homicidal Maniac, or anything in this fic but the scary history lady. All characters, product mockeries, and other things like that belong to the almighty skinny Jhonen Vasquez, who will kick me in the proverbial balls (I's a girl) if he ever finds this fic. Bands all belong to themselves. Read on.

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            Dib stared down at his paper, frowning at the large red 'F' that adorned the top. Ah, history, he thought, so we meet again…He let out a sigh, as the class droned on something about Cleopatra and Marc Anthony. High skool history was such shit. How he hated it. Oh, he hated it good.

            They stopped. Finally. And the bell rang. Yes! Time for home! Just as he was about to leave, the teacher called out.

            "Dib! Can I speak to you, please? Yes, the rest of you are dismissed…have a great weekend!" She giggled. Usually he would have said that she was a nice change from Mrs. Bitters, but somehow she was even more annoying. All…positive.

            "Um, yes Miss Flump?" he asked nervously, picking up his books and walking to the front just as the last student filed out of the room.

            "Yeah, hon, I just wanted to talk to you about your last test grade? I was very disappointed in you, Dib! Your other teachers tell me you're a very good student. When I heard you were in my class this year, I really thought you'd do better." Even with the apparent disappointment, she sounded as if nothing in the world could be better. "So, anyhoo, in light of this, I've decided to assign you a tutor."

            Dib held in a sound of worry. He had spent most of his time in high skool trying to avoid other students. The only one he ever spoke to was Gaz, who was equally disenchanted with the rest of the student body. He had been picked on. She just hated them.

            The perky blond woman continued. "I think you know him. He's in my fourth period class. Zim? You know Zim, right?"

            He froze in terror. Zim? He hadn't spoken to Zim since middle skool, except for the occasional attempt at foiling evil plans. He'd thought he'd be free of the alien once they had been assigned different schedules in ninth grade. 

            "Um, yes," he answered slowly, attempting not to wring her neck right then and there.

            "He's making A's in this class, and he doesn't have any extracurricular activities, and neither do you, so I figured you two could meet this weekend or something and get familiar with the subject. Do you know where he lives?"

            "Yes, ma'am, he's only a few streets over from me. But…couldn't I just get help from my dad? I mean, he is a world-famous scientist and all…"

            "Don't be silly, Dib! We all know your father is way too busy. Anyway, I suggest you talk to Zim sometime over the weekend. See you Monday!"

            He opened his mouth to protest, but then realized that she was right. His dad wouldn't care. Hell, Gaz was making C's in most of her classes, and doing only enough work to barely pass. He hadn't said a word to her. Oh, well. Dib worked hard for himself, not anybody else, though it would be nice if his dad showed some sort of pride in him. But he'd given that up a long time ago.

            "Bye, Miss Flump."

            "Mm-hmm."

            --------

            Oh. There was Zim. Across the parking lot. Dib frowned again, and started the walk to his car. He'd been late this morning, and therefore had been forced to park his Ford Falcon all the way on the side on which the alien was currently standing impatiently, as if waiting. Zim had changed quite a bit. For one, he had had a growth spurt a few years back. Now he was only a few inches over five feet, but it was still a drastic improvement. His shirt was dark red, and his pants were a pair of baggy ripped jeans and motorcycle boots. Of course, his pod was still where it always was. His wig wasn't as neat as it used to be, though. 

            As he reflected, Zim was thinking much the same thing. It had been a long time since he had last spoken to Dib. He had never noticed subtle changes in him. Such as his change of clothing. Dib still wore mostly dark colors. His shirt was black with the sign for anarchy written across it in traditional red, his pants tight black denim, and his shoes black Converse with flames (1). His hair was the same as usual. He was rather tall, even more so than most jocks. 

He wore the usual dark jacket when it was cold, but trenchcoats had been banned several years back due to an incident involving a middle skool student, a dartboard, and a package of swizzle sticks. It hadn't been pleasant.

The dark-haired young man pulled out his keys upon sight of his car, and walked around to unlock it, but Zim stepped in front of him. 

"Zim, what the hell? Will you get out of the way?"

"I've been given an assignment," the alien said slowly, drawing out the last word as if it were venom.

"Yeah, I know. You're supposed to tutor me in history. Miss Flump told me after eighth period." Dib looked annoyed, and he pushed Zim out of the way to unlock his door.

"I'm going to lose grades if you fail any tests after the next one."

"Really? Don't know why they're being tough on you. What the fuck do you care about school, anyway? You don't even have to be here. Why didn't you withdraw?"

"The Tallest require me to be—"

"Oh, one of those things. Whatever. Umm, look, let's get this over with. How about I come over to your house this afternoon and you can tutor me? Not much to lose, right?"

"Why would I want you at my house? So you can destroy my base and wreck my experiments? Foil my next plan?"

Dib sighed. "Zim, I haven't had to foil any of your plans in nearly four years. And you know why? I realized something: they're all shit! You foil yourself. I don't even have to enter the equation, and already you've beat yourself out. God, honestly. Like I've got nothing better to do in the afternoons than chase after some alien whose half-assed plans can't get off the ground anyway…These people are all morons, and even they can spot your pathetic schemes a mile away. You're running out of ideas."

"You will not insult the mighty ZIM!!" The Irken's eye twitched slightly as he rose himself as high on his tiptoes as he could, which still didn't reach Dib's amazing five-foot-eight. "My plans are better than anything YOU could ever think of!"

"Then it's lucky I'm not trying to take over the world."

"AAAGH! Your ears! I'll have your EARS for that remark!"

"So, anyhow, what about the tutoring?"

"I will come to your house! This afternoon?"

"Fine." Dib rolled his eyes and checked his watch. "How about now? Except I have to wait for Gaz. She's late for some reason…"  

"Fine."

"Okay. Well, get in. But…I'd take the back if I were you. Gaz reeeally likes the front." Dib chuckled.

"What? ZIM shall sit where he pleases! No frightening little girl will get in the way of this!"

"Um, riiight…" said Dib skeptically, watching a shadow rise behind the short alien.

"Get. In. The. Back," said a frightening, raspy voice. Zim jumped and turned around to face Gaz, who was wearing her usual outfit of purple and black. Her hair was pulled back slightly from her face. It was still purple. 

Zim squeaked and climbed in the back. Dib got in to the driver's seat, and Gaz, who couldn't drive yet, sat in the passenger seat and switched on her GS4. They pulled out of the parking lot, and Dib turned on the CD player. 

"_The position being taken is not to be mistaken for attempted education or righteous accusation! It is only a description, just an observation of the pitiful condition of our degeneration!"_

All this happened to have been said very loudly, and at such an alarming pace that Zim popped up and hit his head on the ceiling of the car. Gaz held her ears and yelled,

            "Dib, turn that shit off! You know I hate Operation Ivy!"

            Dib switched the CD off and glared at her. "But you liked the Ramones…Well what do you want to listen to?"

            "How about the Japanese Vampire Piggy Hunter soundtrack." She said this more as an order than a request. 

            "Fine." He scrambled around the visor, where a CD case held all of the discs he owned that he'd decided to keep in the car. He pulled out one with Japanese characters on it, and popped it in, muttering, "You're lucky I liked the anime…"

            Gaz simply looked as if he were joking. Zim blinked, and calmed down as the sounds of Japanese rock filled the car. By this time, they were just driving past a MacMeaties, and turned at a stop light. Finally, Gaz had to ask.

            "What's green boy doing with us, anyway? Or should I ask?" She gave a vicious and perverted grin.

            "He's supposed to be tutoring me, Gaz. Feel free to torture him, though. School okay for you?"

            "Sucked," she answered casually. "What do you care?"

            "Just wondering."

            Zim cocked an eyebrow. He was beginning to think this whole family scared him. 

            "Zim!" said Dib loudly, shocking him out of his thoughts. "You're too…quiet. What are you planning?! Are you going to explode our heads?"

            "I thought you said my plans were shit, Dib-worm," Zim replied smugly.

            "They are," Dib assured him. "I was only joking. Jeezus, Zim."

            He pulled into the driveway, and they all piled out of the car, Gaz carrying her messenger bag, Dib a large black bookbag, and Zim had nothing, as all his things were in his pod. They walked in through the front door and into the kitchen.

            "Yeah, so…uh, guess we'll go up to my room and study, Zim. You wanna join, Gaz?"

            "Fuck off…I've gotta go to the arcade."

            "Um, okay…"

            Zim glared off out the window at the horizon, and finally said, "Let's hurry up with this, I've got to get home and yell at GIR."

            "What'd he do wrong?" Dib asked with a chuckle.

            "There's always something…"

            "Point taken. I'll show you up to my room. C'mon." He hauled his stuff to the foot of the stairs, and gave Zim an 'are you coming?' look. The alien followed.

            Once in Dib's room, the young paranormalist shut the door loudly and dropped his books on the bed. He had a lot of homework. After a short search, he found his history book, and tossed it on the floor, then walked over to the CD player.

            "Hey, you don't mind if turn on the CD player, do you? I mean since Gaz left. It really helps me concentrate. Ramones sound good?"

            "I don't care, but…Ramones?"

            "Oh, yeah…you don't know much about music, do you?"

            "Not really. Not much except classical music. I studied it for the stupid history thing…the woman scares me. She makes my squeedily-spooch hurt."

            Dib laughed, which earned him a venomous look. "Sorry. I just love that word…squeedily-spooch. It's so fun to say."

            "Pssh. I don't laugh at your internal organs…" Zim looked indignant.

            "Well, I do…some of these words are just really funny…like…spleen. Spleeeeen. Or…or…tibia…well, that's not an organ, but hell…" 

            Zim smiled. But just a little. "Okay. Well, anyway, let's move on. What chapter is your class on?"

            "Let's see…aw, crap…what chapter…?" Dib frowned. Zim did, too.

            "You don't even know what chapter your class is on? Don't you listen in class?"

            "If I did, do you think I'd have to have you tutoring me?"

            "Hm. Good point."

            "Well…I think it's got something to do with Cleopatra, if that helps…" He looked hopeful.

            "Wait…umm…chapter six. Yeah." Zim seemed quite self-satisfied. They began to study as the CD player blared across the room…

            "_DDT did a job on me, now I am a real sickie…guess I'm gonna have to tell 'em that I got no cerebellum…gonna get my PhD, I'm a teenage lobotomy!"_

Two hours had passed. Dib was getting confused.

            "Wait…so, Octavian wanted to marry Cleopatra…?"

            "No, no…Octavian hated her. See, Octavian had a sister named Octavia, and they were both Caesar's children. Anyhow, Marc Antony was Octavia's husband, but he'd gone off to be with Cleopatra. Octavian wanted revenge for his sister."

            "Oh. Okay, I see…go on."

 "Marc Antony killed himself because he thought Cleopatra was dead. Octavian was going to shame Cleopatra by parading her through the streets and letting the people mock her. She decided that, as queen she would rather die than live through that shame. So, she had someone sneak a poisonous asp into her chambers, and she made it bite her, and died."

"Gawd. That's pretty serious. She killed herself just to keep from being shamed?"

Zim cocked a nonexistent eyebrow. "She was a queen. A ruler has to be respected. She wouldn't have had respect if they'd done that to her."

"Hmm. Well, you would know, huh?" Dib chuckled.

"Shut up."

"Hey, Zim?"

"What? What do you want of ZIM?!" Zim snapped.

"You're not even trying to take over the world anymore, are you?"

Zim hesitated. "Um…well…I guess…you're right. The plans stopped even partially working. They really sucked. So I quit trying."

"Wow. What about the orders from the Tallest?"

"Dib-worm…the Tallest haven't transmitted to me in nearly two years now." There was a hint of shame in his tone.

"Huh. Zim…that's too bad."

"What do you mean? This is exactly what you wanted, isn't it? For me to fail and all of my ego to deflate like a fucking blow-up doll?" He glared.

Dib cringed at that last reference, but persisted. "Yeah…well, after I quit trying to foil you, life got sort of boring. I hardly ever talk to people anyway, but at least when I was attempting to thwart your retarded-ass plans, I didn't feel like I was alone. I mean, I still chase after Bigfoot and all, but it's not the same as having a real alien right under your nose. And the worst part is, I realized that I'm just as bad a paranormalist as you are an Invader. I'm surprised the Swollen Eyeballs haven't kicked me out yet and…sorry, I think I got off on a tangent. See what I mean? I barely ever talk to anyone anymore. I'm almost as bad as that guy down the street, you know, number 777…except my house doesn't have noises coming from it in the night. (2) Um, sorry again." 

Zim soaked all this in as best he could. It was strange to hear Dib rant like this. Especially to him. He cleared his throat to say something….nothing came.

"Umm, do you want something to drink or something?" Dib said suddenly, looking around the room in an odd manner.

"Yeeeah…sure. I guess."

The taller boy checked his watch. "Shit. We've been up here for nearly three hours. My dad should be home by now if he's not out curing something or whatever. Fucking diseases…um, I think I'll walk down to the 24/7 and get a Brainfreezy. You wanna come?"

"Don't you have a car?"

"Yeah, but it's only a few blocks away, and I don't want to waste gas on something stupid like that."

"Oh. Um. Sure."

"Cool. I guess I could walk you back home if—"

"Hell no! You wish to destroy my base and dissect my brain-meeeeeats!" He had taken on that tone as if he already owned the world. Which he didn't. 

Dib's warm smile faded. "Well, fuck, Zim. I thought something NICE might be happening for once, but hey, I guess your brain-meats are more important."

"Well, Dib-human, I'm glad you realize that."

"It was sarcasm, Zim. Seven letter word. Starts with 'S.'"

"Look, I just don't want you to come to the base. I don't like having people over. Especially not with GIR around. I'm still getting chocolate sauce off the walls."

"Fine, Zim. Let's just go get a Brainfreezy before one of us has no brains left to be frozen."

"…Okay."

Dib leaned over the bed to turn off the CD player (now on 'Blitzkrieg Bop'…how I love that song), and turned back to Zim. 

"I guess this is gonna be a regular occurrence now…for a while, anyway."

"Yeah."

They both walked down the stairs and into the kitchen, Zim following Dib like a lost puppy. His dad was sitting on a stool by the counter, tinkering with something that looked like a radioactive ball of spikes. The famous scientist turned his head swiftly upon hearing his son's entry, but stayed facing the ball of metal.

"Dib! How was skool?"

"It was okay. Same as usual."

"Oh." His gaze shifted to the green intruder. "Who's this?"

"This is Zim, dad. He's tutoring me in history." Dib rolled his eyes.

"Hello, Sim, I hope Dib's made you feel welcome!"

Zim twitched an eye. "Well—"

"Anyhoo, Dib, where's your sister?"

            Dib chuckled at Zim's look of irritation. "She went to the arcade. I guess she's honing her piggy-hunting skills. Or something."

            "That's nice."

            "Mmmyep. Seeya—waitaminit! Dad what exactly are you doing to the toaster?"

            Professor Membrane turned fully to face the two young men, and raised a finger in a scientisty-like gesture. "It needs UPGRADING!"

            "Dad," Dib said, raising an eyebrow. "It's got a radio with six antennae, a clock, an internal detonator, and a fully functioning satellite TV. I don't think it needs any more upgrades! And what's more, I don't think it even makes toast anymore! Gaz tried yesterday! It didn't! Isn't that sort of vital to the whole CONCEPT of a toaster?"

            "Hmm…as a matter of fact, it is…well, seeya son."

            Dib shrugged. "Bye, dad."

            Zim made a face. This family definitely scared him. Of course, he'd never admit it…but they did. 

(1) My friend has some Converses that look like that. They're really fuckin' cool. My other friend has a plaid pair, but I haven't talked to her since before Christmas…

(2) JTHM reference number one. 

AUTHOR'S NOTES: Okay…the song is 'Room Without a Window' by Operation Ivy, and the other is 'Teenage Lobotomy' by (ba-duh) the Ramones, two of my favorite punk bands ever. The CD I got RWW off is a compilation with 27 tracks. I got it for Christmas. It made me happy. So very happy…Anyhoo, I like the idea of Dib liking these sorts of things ("But you liked the Ramones…") and then Gaz with the J-Rock. Dib's gonna be a little bitter later on (notice his reaction to Zim's plans this time around), but not too bad. He's just gotten smarter. 


	2. Aliens, Romance, and Neighbors

NOTES: Hey, reader type people. Here's another chapter. Yyyyep. There ya go. Thankya to Ravwrin, the ONE person who reviewed. If you don't review this chapter, people, I WILL quote Happy Noodle Boy and you won't like it. Nooo…you won't like it, for I govern your emotions and therefore may tell you, at any time I please, exactly how you feel and with what exact tones and inflections you must speak to me. Um, sorry. I'm just a little pissed off at my teachers & my mom…sooo, anyhoo. Yeah. This chapter's a little strange. I guess. Just as long as the last one, too. SLASH!!!! Don't read if you don't like slash! Or your head will explode! Boooh!

Disclaimer: I don't own dis shit. Jhonen Vasquez owns it. Slave Labor Graphics publishes. Nick produces it. I read/watch and vandalize it with insane notions of Zimmy/Dibby love and psychotic Nny cameos. Dib's head is large. Spank my monkey, his name is Sam.

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Part 2

The sun was beginning to set as the two high skool students exited the 24/7, Dib holding a cherry Brainfreezy (Suck it like you loves it, baby!), and Zim having decided against it in the end. He really didn't want one, and though Dib suggested he get one for GIR, he'd insisted that he really didn't want a cherry-flavored couch. Dib had laughed.

            "Hey, Zim," said the young man suddenly, eyeing the alien as he sucked on the Brainfreezy. "I was wondering…I mean, I know this isn't necessarily the Irkens, but I had been thinking…why do you guys always abduct the planet's most retarded people…like people from Iowa?"

            Zim considered this heavy question. "Um…well, because, I guess it's because of the fact that nobody misses them once they're gone. Really, though, would you rather we abducted you?"

            "Heh…well, as long as there are no anal probes involved…" He laughed weakly. Zim did as well. And then the awkward silence. 

            Zim spoke up, "Trust me, Dib-worm, if Irkens were really THAT interested in the inner workings of a human's internal organs, we wouldn't waste time with a probe. We'd just dissect you. However, we aren't interested in your internal organs…except that one time."

            "Yeah…that was just a little…weird…" He smiled in reflection of their time in Ms. Bitters' class—something he'd thought he'd never do. "Remember that sixty-two pound auxiliary hall pass?"

            "Yeah, and the liquid prunes?" Zim laughed. 

            "And remember how Ms. Bitters always talked about doom?"

            "Heehee, doooom…yeah, I remember that, Dib-worm."

            "Hey, Zim?"

            "What? What knowledge do you seek of me, ZIM?"

            Dib twitched a little, but continued, "Um, I kind of like it when…when you call me Dib-worm." 

            "Huh?"

            "Well…" Dib smiled. "It used to really piss me off, but you know, since you told me about the cease in the whole world-taking-over-world…thing, it feels more like we're friends."

            Zim blushed. "Yeah. I guess it sort of does."

            "We should get together tomorrow, okay. I reeeally have to pass this next test, and since it's on Tuesday, I need all the help I can get. You don't mind, do you?"

            "Um, no." Zim turned with sudden realization that they had reached his house. 

            "I'll walk you to the door?"

            He sighed. "Fine."

           But just then, the door burst open, and out ran a little green dog that was covered in what resembled orange popsicle. He was holding a wedge of cheese.

            "YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!" yelled GIR. "Master's home!" 

            "Yes, GIR, I am home…"

            "Master, I painted the walls ORANGE!" The little robot stuck out its tongue in that adorable way and smiled. Then it saw Dib. "AAAAAAAAAAAH!!! It's Dib!!! He's gonna eat our brains!" His eyes went red.

            Dib glared at him. Finally, GIR's eyes returned to their normal color. "Hi, Dib."

            "Um, hi GIR."

            "Master! Master!" He held up the cheese. "Spank the cheese! SPANK IT LIKE YOU LOVES IT, DAMMIT!" 

            "GIR!! QUIET! Go watch that hideous monkey or something…NOW!"

            "SIR!...okay." The "dog" saluted, then shrugged and went back into the house.

            "That was…interesting…" said Dib with a raised eyebrow.

            "Yes. Hmm. Pheh." 

            "Um, so…I guess…bye? Unless you'll reconsider letting me in? Or do I have to seduce you?" Dib winked playfully, and immediately began laughing. 

            Zim smiled. "Um, no…"

            "Aww, come on…" Dib slipped an arm around Zim's waist and playfully dipped the thin alien. "Pleeease?" His face was painfully close to Zim's. 

            Unfortunately, this didn't have the desired effect. Zim put himself upright, pushed Dib off, and ran inside, yelling, "NO!!"

            "Um. Okay." 

            Zim leaned against the inside of the door and sighed. His wig had slid down slightly, but he disregarded it, since he was now in the privacy of his own home. He looked around. It was such a shithole. He'd stopped trying to clean a long time ago. Anything that wasn't stuck to the walls or furniture wasn't worth it. 

            GIR was sitting in front of the television, mimicking that stupid monkey…Zim went and, checking to make sure nothing was sticky, took a seat on the sofa. 

            Unfortunately, he couldn't keep his mind off of it…why was Dib doing all of this? Why would he but to get into Zim's base. Even if the Tallest hadn't called him in so long, he still clung to that hope that they hadn't forgotten him, that it hadn't all been a huge joke on his part. He wanted to believe that he wasn't really the jackass he made himself out to be.

            But he also wanted to believe in Dib now. Dib seemed to genuinely want to be friends. Friends, at least. The way he acted made Zim nervous. It made his squeedily-spooch tie into knots.  It really made him happy…except he knew Dib didn't mean any of it. But he liked the way Dib behaved now.

            He actually liked a lot of the changes in Dib since middle skool. For one, Dib looked good for being so thin for his height. He even liked that loud music the boy listened to. The playful attitude was another thing. However, the young human seemed more than a little apathetic when he wasn't joking with Zim or arguing with Gaz. He seemed a bit depressed.

            Slowly, Gir turned his head almost all the way around, and in a very serious voice, asked, "Does Master loves the Dib-boy?"

            "GIR…" Zim sighed again. "Yeah."

            "WEE-HAW!!!" The little robot took off literally bouncing off the walls and ceiling. 

            The next day, Dib woke to the familiar sound of his screaming Scary Monkey alarm clock. It was only seven, but he preferred to wake up early in order to watch Saturday morning cartoons and avoid Gaz, who was less than kind in the mornings…well, more so than the rest of the day.

            He still felt bad about what had happened with Zim. He figured Zim must have felt pressured by what he had done, and the whole seduction comment hadn't helped much. He'd only meant it as a joke…though he did like the way it felt to hold Zim like that. It was sort of like the happiness that comes immediately after the death of a mime. (Ooohh, yess…fucking clown bastards. Ahem, forgive me…) But Zim probably wouldn't talk to him for a while now, even if it would deduct from his grade.

            He sat up, placing his feet on the floor, and looked down at his Power Rangers pajamas, sighing in disgust. He didn't know why he still had the damn things…oh, well. He made his way down the stairs, picking up random bits of his dad's inventions, and went into the kitchen. 

            The cabinets were empty. He didn't know how, he didn't know when, but obviously someone had felt the need to eat everything in their house…but there was that one cabinet…the one that looked ready to burst off of its hinges. Cautiously, he walked over to it, as though he were an assassin attempting not to be seen. He quickly grabbed the handle, turned, and…FOOM!

            He was covered in cereal boxes, cheese, and other various food products.

            "FUCK!" he yelled as he was hit in the head with a bottle of maple syrup. He stood up and brushed himself off. "Stupid Gaz…those sharp corners reeeally hurt."

            He picked up a box of Count Cocofang cereal and poured a bowl, then drenched it in milk and went into the living room where the couch was free and empty. How he loved Saturday morning. He never had to worry about being harassed at skool, about pissing off Gaz, or being ignored by dad, or…Zim…well…

            He'd have to apologize to Zim…right after 'Pepper Ann'.

            By the time Gaz came down, around ten, Dib was busy watching 'Yu Gi Oh'. It wasn't a very good episode, but he liked it…he'd ignored three phone calls because they hadn't been during commercials. Gaz walked into the kitchen for some cereal, then came out with a miffed look on her face.

            "Dib, what the hell did you do?"

            Dib turned around to face her, and said, "What do you mean? What did you do? I just had a fucking cabinet full of boxes fall on me. Somehow I doubt that's my fault."

            "Look, Dib, you don't own the cereal! How many times do I have to tell you? YOU DON"T OWN THE DAMN CEREAL! Don't you have tutoring or something anyway?"

            "Oh, shit." He remembered now. He had to go over and apologize. He hated apologizing to people. It was always awkward. "Hey, Gaz, I'm gonna take the car. If dad asks, tell him I'm over at Zim's."

            "He won't ask, Dib."

            "Good point."

            He took in a deep breath and rang the doorbell. Nobody answered. He rang once more and then prepared to turn away, when suddenly, GIR answered.

            "Hi, Dib! How's your spleen? Good? Good…" The robot giggled like a maniac.

            "Um, yeah, my spleen's doing great, GIR. Can I talk to Zim?"

            "Master's feelin' sad right now…can I take a message? BEEP!"

            "Could you please tell him that I'm really sorry for acting like a jackass yesterday, and that I wish he would come over so we can keep tutoring."

            "Um. Okay."

            Dib looked suspicious. "Could you say that back to me, GIR?"

            "Piggy likes candy!"

            "I'm coming in there."

            "Uuuuuuuuuuuuh…okie-dokie!" GIR stood aside and held open the door for Dib to walk in.

            "Where's Zim?"

            "He's in his lab. He said he was going to contemplate the horrible reality of this universe and hope for its imminent doom." He stuck out his tongue.

            Dib stared at the robot as if he had just recited Shakespearean quotation. "Zim said that?"

            GIR smiled. "Um, I think I might have made it up?"

            The human sighed and looked around the house. It was messier than his own home. Apparently Zim had stopped cleaning, or making GIR clean, or whatever the hell he did. There were popsicle sticks, pizza boxes, Brainfreezy cups, and various dishes lining the floor. And that wasn't even mentioning the stuff on the walls and furniture. Dib looked down, feeling lucky he had apparently taken a clear path to where he was currently standing.

            He needed to speak to Zim. Supposedly, he could just go down to the lab by asking GIR. However, thinking about it logically, that would only prove to Zim that Dib was merely interested in his lab. Oh, and Dib didn't want that, no. He was really enjoying his new friendship with Zim, as far as it had gone for the moment.

            "GIR, do you think you could go get Zim?"

            "Huh?"

            "GO GET ZIM."

            "Oh, okay."

            GIR walked over to the toilet sitting in the kitchen, stood on it, and flushed, then giggled as though someone was tickling him. Dib resisted the urge to take notes.

            It was a good ten minutes before Zim came up through the toilet, and stared at Dib with a raised eyebrow.

            "What?"

            Dib frowned at him. Then he remembered. "Um, Zim…I'm really sorry for pissing you off yesterday. I mean, I realize it was pretty crappy of me to pressure you like that, and if you don't want me in your house I understand. We can leave right now and go over to my place if you want."

            "Mwuh. Fine, stinkbeast. I accept your request of the mighty ZIM!"

            "Um, yeah. Ego understood. Let's go."

            "Dib, um…"

            "Yes?"

            "I guess I'm sorry for being angry at you."

            "Okay."

            The walk back to Dib's was silent. They had just enough quiet to take in the scenery of the city: broken bottles on the sidewalk,  shopping carts littering various places, insane hobos ranting about cheese, and the overall foul stench of it all that they had both become sadly accustomed to. 

            Of course, that all ended once they entered the Membrane household. Gaz was sitting on the couch, watching TV, and she turned slightly as the door slammed closed. 

            "Hey, Gaz. Ooh, is that that commercial where the whole family gets diarrhea?"

            "Yeah." 

            "Umm…oh, I've gotta study. Damn."

            "Keep your fucking music down or I'll eat your head."

            "Ummm…okay."

            "With teriyaki sauce."

            Zim shuddered as they turned towards the staircase to go up to Dib's room. Then he began to take a look at the pictures on the wall. There were pictures of Gaz, many of the Professor, a few of Dib, but only one of them all together. They were all standing in front of their house, smiling (okay, except for Gaz), and there was a strange woman with red hair standing with them. 

            "Is that your mother?" he asked awkwardly. 

            "Yeah." Dib said nothing more as they continued up the stairs and came to his bedroom. 

            "Um," Zim struggled with the unfamiliarity of friendliness. "Was she a nice woman?"

            Dib sighed loudly and began looking for his CD case. Finally, he turned around and replied, "No."

            "Oh. What did she do?" Zim look vaguely concerned. He had never really had a parental unit, but he knew they were supposed to be nice to some extent.

            "Look, Zim, are we gonna fucking study or not? I don't want to sit here all day and tell you my life story. Here's my history book." 

            "I was only showing interest, Dib-worm. You have no obligation to tell me the story of your existence."

            "Yeah, I know. Anyway, let's go over that Cleopatra thing one more time…"

            "Do you remember yesterday, when we were starting that conversation on human music?"

            "Yeah. What about it?"

            "I wondered what this kind of music you like is? You know, the 'Ramones'."

            Dib sniggered. "You sound like a parent. You even did the air quotes things with your fingers."

            "Ooo…kay."

            "Well, anyhow, it's called punk rock. I actually really like some other types of music—alternative rock and new metal. I think you'd like some of the alt rock. One of my favorite alt rock bands is one called Incubus. Ooh, but first the punk rock. It's really great. You'll like Green Day! I think I've got one of their CDs here…ummmmm…here!"

            He smiled, enjoying the conversation on one of his favorite subjects (next to paranormal activity and cheese dip, of course). He went to the CD player and popped in the disc. 

            "_I declare I care no more, I'm running up and out and growing bored in my smoked out boring room, my hair is shagging in my eyes, dragging my feet to hit the streets at night, drive along this shit town life…"_

"Umm…yeah. 'Green _Day_'  is pretty…er, musical."

            "Yeah, but they started to suck after a while. Most people said they sold out."

            "What is the big thing with music and you humans, anyway?"

            Dib thought for a second. He didn't get faced with this question often, but he'd mulled it over in his head countless times. "Um, I guess it's like Operation Ivy said 'Contained in music somehow more than just sound, inspiration coming and twisting things around.' Sort of an outlet for emotions, I suppose. Or something."

            Silence. After a few minutes, they heard the front door slam. Gaz had obviously left for the arcade, or something. Therefore, the volume went up considerably, and there wasn't much studying. They both sat around on the bed in silence, just listening to the music. Both appeared to be in deep thought.

            Finally, Dib sighed and said, "She hit me."

            "What?"

            "My mother." He looked down at the sheets, still adorned with UFOs from his childhood. "You asked what she did to be a mean person. She hit me."

            "So that's bad for a parental thing to do?"

            Dib's eye twitched. "Fuck, yeah, Zim, it's kind of fucking illegal! Especially when your kid's only five years old and they're getting the shit beat out of them with the wrong side of a bedpost!" 

            "I just didn't know. I'm sorry, Dib. Did she die?"

            "Yeah. She overdosed on crystal meth." He nearly smiled when he said that. "I never told Gaz, of course. She never got hit. Either mom actually loved her, or thought she was too young to beat."

            "What about your father?"

            "What about him? If dad was ever around the house to do something silly like, I don't know, maybe CARE for us, the fucking world might end! Oh, wait, no, seriously, it might!" Dib pulled his knees up to his chest and hugged them, frowning as deeply as ever.

            "Um, are you gonna cry? Cause, I don't mind if you do…" This was increasingly weird for Zim. 

            "What?" Dib smiled. "No, I'm not gonna cry. Why?"

            "Sorry. I've been watching soap operas with GIR."

            "Oh. Well, it's just that, I've thought about it so much now that it doesn't really matter. It's like her life and her death and all the shit that happened to us back then is nothing more than a movie that plays in my head when I sleep. And it doesn't scare me any more. I mean, when I was little, I used to think the dreams were nightmares, and I'd go sobbing to my dad like I thought the world was against me. And now I know it's nothing more than another world of shit, and that most of it really is against me. I don't know, I don't think it makes any sense, but whatever it means, that's what it is. I don't think I *can* cry anymore. It makes me sick."

            Zim looked at him in shock. He didn't think he'd ever heard Dib speak so solemnly. Not seriously, anyway. However, that wasn't surprising considering that the last time he had really spoken to Dib before the whole friendship thing had been when Dib was threatening to foil his plan using magnetic weasels. Now it was hard to keep a straight face when thinking of something like that.

            "Zim? Sorry I unloaded all of that on you. I'll understand if you want to go home."

            "Don't apologize for what someone else did to you, Dib-worm. It's not your fault she hurt you." Zim smiled inwardly for his eloquent choice of words.

            "Thanks…Zim?" Dib leaned forward, looking slightly nervous, as if he were about to reveal the meaning of life.

            "Ye—" Zim began, equally nervous, before being cut off by Dib's lips pressing against his own. His eyes widened in shock for a moment, but after that, he began to respond, working his tongue, though slightly clumsily for lack of much experience. 

            Finally, they pulled away. Dib looked at the floor, expecting rejection. However, Zim was doing the same. He rubbed his neck anxiously.

            "That was…different."

            Dib looked up hopefully. "Umm, yeah."

            "Hmm."

            "Zim, I really, really like you," he said softly. "I mean, like, I'd go out with you if you wanted…well, I guess, technically not go *out*, since we'd get the shit kicked out of us. And I know it's probably weird, me being human and you being an alien, but, I mean…fuck. I really do need more friends."

            "I…think…I need to go home and think about this. I'm really confused right now. This situation is a bit…I suppose a human would say… 'fucked up'."

            "Um, okay," Dib replied, keeping a completely straight face. "Do you need me to show you to the door?"

            "No, I think I can find it. The one at the front of the house, right?"

            "Um, just whichever one leads to outside."

            "Right."

            Zim left the room, leaving all silent but the sounds of NOFX on the CD player. Dib sat for a good fifteen minutes before even moving. His eyes focused on the ground for a moment, but then the sound of the doorbell rang throughout the house. He stood up slowly and shakily, and made his way down to the front door. 

            When he opened it, there was standing a tall man in his mid-twenties, with very dark hair and large eyes, wearing nothing but black, a striped T-shirt that said 'Smile, you fucker', high leather boots, and fiddling with his hands in a preoccupied way.

            "Hi," said Dib calmly. "Can I help you?"

            "Um, yes, you can," the man replied. "I live down the street, number 777, and, while I don't normally do really anything for the community, I'm entertaining, er, guests at the moment. I was wondering if you'd be so kind as to turn down your music? As much as I like punk music, I'd reeeally appreciate it."

            "Sure. No problem. I didn't realize it was so loud. I guess I was sort of venting."

            "Ah, yes," answered the man. "I definitely know the value of a little frustration management."

            "Yeah. Well, I'll do that now. Thanks for telling me. Otherwise I would've kept it on all night and someone probably would have shot me, knowing this city."

            "Hmm…guns. Horrible things. Well, thanks."

            "No problem. Come over any time I'm disturbing the peace. My name is Dib Membrane."

            "Ah. Nice to meet you, Dib. My name is Johnny C. You can call me Nny for short." He smiled ear to ear.

            "Um, seeya."

            "Bye."

            AUTHOR'S NOTES: Yes, there was a pointless Nny cameo. Why? Because I can!!! Mwahaha! Feel the suffering, pitiful readers! …Mmmyep. Um. Hey. I like salsa. Right. Er, so, there was the slashiness…of course, there shall be more slashiness, and probably intros of even more new characters (actually, I think Ms. Flump is the only new character so far). There will also be at least one more Nny cameo, a possible Squee cameo, and maybe even Jhonen will show up in this fic. Yes, fear me, for I can spell Jhonen's name. Hahaha! No…wait…I didn't mean that. Please don't kick my pathetic, stupid, fic-writing ass, Jhonen! For you are tall, and I shan't resist your overwhelming hypnotic SCARINESS…um, right. This is getting too weird. Funyuns are good. Your head disturbs me. I sleep now. 


End file.
